Love
Brick by brick throughout the years a sturdy mental wall against the outside world formed. Condescending assertion propelled others away like a barbed fence and a bitter glare directed to onlookers were her warning signs not to trespass. An unbreakable fortress emotionally locked uptight. Yet she lay a fragile soul, openly vulnerable, exposed to the medium who took comfort resting against her chest.
Candy apple colored nails combed through textured hair adding to the soothing comfort her partner felt when they cuddled. So easily he slipped into the invisible plane losing touch with the living. The sound of a heart beating and the slow rise of her chest ground him to the living world. In quiet moments he could easily fade into a familiar existence, however he remained present to experience their shared affection.
How far they had come from indifferent strangers to that awkward friendship, and now a comfortable relationship. Both with guarded walls that crumbled and cracked never fully destroyed but enough to feel content letting the other in. Kaz was a mystery, silent and observant if not a bit strange. The desired novelty for most women wanting to crack and repair. However, that was it; the novelty was a twisted fantasy to fix someone who wasn’t broken.
Understanding some of his quirks took time but her questions had never been to mock his ways or to suggest methods of being less odd. It came from a place of childlike curiosity, a means to understand how he thought and his views on the world around him. A fascination in discovery about the mystery behind the man. He presented himself like the dead company he kept. A spectator watching life pass interacting when asked or felt it was important. The way his body rested on top of her listening for those subtle signs of life opened her eyes to what was under the surface. A man who wanted that living connection, a connection she was happy to provide.
Strange, odd or weird may have been the first words people may have used to describe him. He wasn’t strange, complex perhaps, a rhyme and reason for his actions. Never acting on impulse, there was a reason for his quirks but whatever that reason was she loved him. By all the spirits in her life, she loved him!
A cold and distant outer shell covered the compassionate person helping lost souls and grieving families find closure. Rarely a smile but when he did the world around her stopped for a brief moment. Cold hands were welcomed against her warm skin knowing he was comfortable enough to hold her. So much of him, the world had not gotten the chance to see. Unsure if she should feel bad for those missing out or take a quiet joy that she could witness those inside walls. It was only natural a crush would form—no, this wasn’t a crush, such a word was belittling to the emotions she felt for him.
“Je t'aime beaucoup, Messieurs Vaudou.”
The words were neither loud nor a whisper, but spoken in such a sure tone that Klaxon roused from the solace of her warmth. Being together, so close like this, he always found himself entirely focused on the gentle rhythm of her breathing and the echoing pulse of her heartbeat. Funny, it's as if he never noticed those natural acts of living before, and feeling them was a long over-due experience, a reminder he too was on the same plane as China.
Now his focus was called to her words, and for a moment his senses were struck down in sudden surprise. Je t'aime. Love. It was not a word her heard very often in his lifetime, especially not directed to him, and it was not something he ever expected to have from someone. Years and years of looking for his grandmother, the one and only person he ever felt loved by, had left him isolated from that word, those feelings. They'd been gone so long.
Klaxon didn't often dwell on his feelings. There wasn't any need; they were so mild and needed to be set aside at any given moment to make room for the ghosts that needed a voice. He had grown used to the Living disregarding him, and so he had grown into a man who was not casual about feelings, giving them away or taking them from others, too easily reckless. But Chai, his Kitten, he knew was not a casual woman either.
From the moment they first met she had had walls surrounding her. She was a straight-arrow and serious in her convictions and resolve. She was also, he realized, a loner much like himself. China had been a warrior, yet distrusting and unwilling to let people near her. He quickly noticed the hardened façade she presented to the world was not completely because of her serious determination to get the job done, but a front to exclaim "Keep out". It wasn't his business to know why, but he could see it in her eyes, the window to her soul, whenever she was withdrawn and introspective: Chai was a scared and lonely person. Haunted, perhaps even more than he was. There were instances, however, where he saw her come out from behind her walls, when she would smile or grow excited, and she would brighten, she'd become a lighthouse in the darkness that just drew him near.
With sudden realization, like flashes of a movie in his mind, he knew why they had come together so easily. A pair of quiet souls looking for answers, and in those silent moments they neither judged, nor pushed, the other. They just were. Together. Once that bond had formed, she began asking him questions, and he found himself stimulated by not only sharing with her, but returning with queries of his own. He realized he wanted to know the reason behind her fears, he desired that personal connection with her on a deeper level.
As effortless as their relationship was, Klaxon also knew there was nothing casual about it. She made him feel again, and he was, very honestly, grateful to her for it. She had been frightened to open her heart to someone, and yet here she was—with him. How many times had she reached for him when they were alone? How many times she pull him close to let him listen to her breath? How many times did she save him when he felt himself slipping towards the Invisible? She was not a casual woman who gave her feelings away, too scared of the price it would cost her. But she loved him?
Klaxon felt overwhelmed, an odd washing of emotions processing through him, and a twinge of worry whispering through at the thought his strange way of being, his cold world, might mess it all up somehow. Then he sighed deeply, a sigh of contentment and release. Her words were spoken with conviction, in the beautiful comfort of their bodies resting together. So close. Yes, he loved her too.
He wrapped his arms around her body and drew her ever closer against him, as if he could meld them together and snuff out his cold with her fire. Her heartbeat fluttered faster, her arms slipping across his shoulders to hold him as well. And nestled into her welcoming, wanting embrace, he matched her emotions with her instinctive language, the words just as relaxed and real.
“Je t'aime aussi, sha.”